


Strawberry Roses

by notalotgoingon



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluffy but Sad, M/M, Realistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalotgoingon/pseuds/notalotgoingon
Summary: A compilation of three times Sykkuno and Corpse have had to be there for each other.
Relationships: Corpse Husband/Sykkuno (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83
Collections: Server Event: Valentines 2021





	Strawberry Roses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Killerofkawaii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killerofkawaii/gifts).



> For the wonderful KawaiiKiller! I was partnered up with them and Spoon for the Valentine’s exchange, and I couldn’t have picked two better people. I really hope you enjoy this, Kawaii ❤️
> 
> Also, why do 50% of my stories have to end with I love you? Don’t mind the cliche. I’ll learn to write better eventually. Also also, bad title, I know.

In a relationship where both parties are often busy, it can be difficult to gain the other’s attention. This had never been a problem for Sykkuno and Corpse, despite their hectic careers and the sometimes overwhelming workload and pressure they face every day. The former always knows when his partner is becoming restless or in need of company or cheering up in some way. Corpse knows how to read Sykkuno. He knows about his insecurities, anxious tendencies and how to avoid them, as well as when he just wants cuddles and reassurance.

On one such day, Corpse is playing with Rae, Ludwig, Jack, and a few others on Rust, and he feels tired, listlessly clicking buttons and occasionally contributing to the others’ plans for home renovations and exploration. Sykkuno has been making tea for the two of them to share when he hears his boyfriend’s fist hit the table. At first, he starts giggling, under the false impression the collision happened due to a failed gambling effort, but after bringing the tea to him in his penguin mug, he notices the screen is blank. It’s going to be one of those days, Sykkuno frowns at the realization. He hates the feeling that comes along with Corpse’s despair, the sensation of powerlessness that takes over. Knowing he can’t protect his love from all the cruelties of the world around them is a terrible fact to accept. He hates the way his mind nags at him that he can’t help Corpse, can’t understand him and what he’s going through, can’t make him happy like he deserves to be. It’s times like these when he just hugs his knees to his chest and wonders why he even tries. Then, he feels even worse because Corpse has to untangle the pile of blankets he has wrapped around himself like a nest and comfort him when really, Sykkuno feels like he should be the one soothing his boyfriend. He should be running his hand through Corpse’s soft curls, telling him how important and loved he is, that no matter what people say, he will always love him, not the other way around. But Sykkuno can hardly object to Corpse’s loving cuddles and soft kisses.

“You doing okay, love?” He tests out the pet name, trying to weave caring, kind words into his everyday life because he knows Corpse likes that sort of thing.

Accepting the warm cup, Corpse takes a slow sip, coughs, and responds hoarsely, “No.”

There is nothing Sykkuno could say; at least, nothing comes to mind. He stands in silence in the dark room that had presented like a dungeon to him at first. The bright paint on the walls does little to amplify the dim lighting that seems to seep out from the crack beneath the door and swallow up everyone who crept too close. For the first two weeks of nearly living with Corpse, he was too scared to go near. He set up his streaming equipment in the hallway and pretended like the cramped space didn’t make him claustrophobic or that the shadows didn’t scare him just a little. It wasn’t like Corpse had never offered him the extra room, but he felt as though he was encroaching on his territory or something and felt it best to carve out his own space. So he resigned himself to gaming there, alone, feeling unwelcome and uncomfortable.

“Oh, I can get you some medicine for your throat?”

He coughs once more, “No-not like that. I mean, I’m just not feeling great, so I told them I’d see them tomorrow. I want to spend time with you. Where do you want to go?”

“You’re going outside? Like out in the world outside?” Sykkuno gapes. If there is one thing that he and millions of others know about his boyfriend, it is that Corpse does not go outside. It must be a very big deal for him to offer that. As much as he wants to accept, he checks the time on his phone. “It’s two am.”

“Is it? Ash said- oh, time zones. Right,” he glumly slumps further into his chair, ignoring the uncomfortable slant of his back. He rests his eyes for a moment because he knows sleep is probably out of the question at this point.

“Yeah, but tomorrow, tomorrow I’ll bring you something. You don’t even have to leave; I’ll do it for you. And we can get takeout and relax. You don’t have to get stressed out like this,” Sykkuno offers, rubbing his shoulder lightly.

Corpse does perk up just a little. He stays still, eyelids fluttering every so often if only to prove he is still capable of the movement, but his mouth forms a soft grin. Sykkuno takes the now empty mug away, joy flitting across his features for a small moment, so miniscule that it would not even be noticeable. He just feels happy for some reason. He crawls into bed after Corpse, and they talk for a few minutes about topics like favorite tv shows and music until they both fall asleep.

When Sykkuno wakes up, he lays there with his eyes locked on the ceiling. He listens to Corpse inhale and exhale in a steady rhythm, and normally, noises like that would drive him absolutely mad, but he likes the calm dawn offers him. Everything is so clear in the early morning when smog hasn’t smothered the clouds, and the birds are still groggily finding a place to conduct their first symphony. His mind is at peace; he knows what he wants and how he wants things to be.

“I love you,” he wants to say and mean it with every fiber of his being. He has never loved someone like he does Corpse, never wanted so badly to wake up to someone else just to see if he’s still there when he does, never cared about someone else so much that he almost forgets about his own needs, never wanted so badly for his love to succeed and told him so in a way nobody ever expressed to him. He loves Corpse, and there is nothing that will ever change that, not the way that sometimes they have a quarrel about the thermostat, which really isn’t an argument at all since both prefer cool over hot or lukewarm. He finds it is so easy to love and be loved, especially with someone as perfect as Corpse to come home to every day. Yet for some reason, he can’t say it. So his lips stay firmly shut, eyebrows threaded in deep concentration while he counts the odd dots and small cracks in the ceiling.

Honestly, he feels like every day, there is a possibility that everything, including Corpse, could be taken away from him. So he keeps his emotions in place, does not let them venture out so far as to compromise the measures he has put in place to stop him from falling too far in love. He is also afraid of the possibility that he could love him, but his feelings will not be returned. Too bad, he’s already in too deep, and he knows that Corpse loves him. He knows it, and everyone else knows it too. Sykkuno just has to find the courage to say I love you because that’s how every cliche movie couple ends up, right? Well, he can’t, and he just doesn’t say it, and that is fine. He is certain Corpse knows their bond is strong enough to say it without words. He closes his eyes and begins to drift off again, lost in the sweet melody of pretty birds outside and the faraway hum of business as usual.

The next time, it’s Sykkuno’s turn to have a bad day and Corpse’s turn to make him feel better. When the latter is upset, it can be very easy to tell, but, on the other hand, his boyfriend is very guarded with his emotions, especially loneliness and sadness. The solitude gets to him sometimes. He only ever really sees Corpse on a day to day basis, and he needs some sort of social interaction. He needs a schedule, a time for breakfast and sleep, a repetitive list of events and chores to complete before the day ends.

On this day, his schedule was thrown off. His planned Among Us lobby that Rae had set up fell through, and now, he does not have a plan for his stream. He might not even stream, but he feels like he has to do something, be productive. He makes a cup of ramen and wanders aimlessly, exploring the already familiar layout of the house. Because he knows Corpse doesn’t get a lot of sleep and that for him to rest at all is very good, he is hesitant to wake him.

So he stretches and wanders some more. Then, he stares at the ceiling for a while. Next, he tries to do something important, but he collapses on the couch, a mixture of self deprecation and failure filling his mind. The roses in the vase near the front door are his only companion in the dim lighting. Since he is a nice person who cares for others more than himself, Sykkuno keeps everything he feels on the inside. He shoves his hurt and sadness in a bottle and closes it so tightly that nobody can manage to open it and discover how he really feels.

“Hey,” Corpse finds him a bit later when he has finished cataloguing the pillows in the living room by color then size then comfort level and digging through the pantry for snacks, “do you need anything?”

“I-I don’t know. I just don’t feel good. My head hurts, and I’m sad. I don’t want to stream, and I don’t feel like-like doing anything else.”

“I get it.” He does, “Lay down, I’ll fix you something to eat.”

Something to know about Corpse is that he is actually quite a good cook. Sure, he is no Gordon Ramsey, but in Sykkuno’s opinion- the boy whose taste was acquired through years of shoveling down college cuisine- he is very wonderful, indeed. He wakes up to fresh eggs and buttered toast with a side of freshly sorted and cubed fruit. Corpse has even taken the time to carve five strawberries into roses and place them in a bouquet at the side of his plate.

He could cry and not from sadness or boredom this time. His boyfriend is so sweet, and he feels so undeserving of his time and affection. 

“Thank you, Corpse,” he gives him a watery smile and dashes to the counter to collect his meal. Before he picks up his plate, Corpse stops him.

“You don’t have to feel bad,” he mumbles, holding him against his chest, “you’re beautiful.” He kisses his forehead chastely, “You are talented and amazing at what you do. People love you so much.” I love you most of all, he finishes silently, pressing a brief but loving kiss to Sykkuno’s pink lips.

Corpse sounds like night drives and smells like hot chocolate. Truly, he feels intoxicated just by being in his presence. His laugh is water in a desert, and his rumbling chest is like a tether connecting him to Earth. He never thinks about being anywhere else other than near him. Corpse is flawless; he just wishes he could find a way to express that.

He feels the exact same way about Sykkuno. He lives for the spiced honey sweetness that drips from his words, and with every spoken syllable, he falls deeper in love because to be completely honest, who wouldn’t? Everyone loves Sykkuno; he’s just shocked he is the lucky individual who gets to wake up next to him, cook for him, listen to him speak, cuddle him to sleep, and nurse his wounds. He is truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and Corpse hopes that one day, he will be able to acknowledge that maybe he deserves Sykkuno’s love. There are a lot of things he regrets in life, a lot of things that keep him up at night, moments he would take back if he could, but Sykkuno is not one of them, nor will he ever be.

Sykkuno finishes his brunch, and a few hours later, he’s found things to occupy his time, even finding an extra thirty minutes to wash the dishes. He watches his favorite anime, Yuri on Ice, and drowsily tries to keep up with the plot. Eventually, he finds himself in desperate need of a hug. From what he can recall from the day’s events, Corpse told him he would be playing Rust, but he is pretty sure he remembers that he uses push to talk when he games and as such, will be able to hold a conversation with him, so he meanders down the hall to his streaming room and steps inside.

Bulbasaur stuffed animal in hand, Sykkuno sits on the floors, places his chin atop Corpse’s knee, and wraps his arms around his leg. Even if he’s too sleepy and not in the best mental state to stream or game himself, he can still support his boyfriend.

Said boyfriend gives him his full attention and with that attention, comes an onslaught of questions pertaining to his health and happiness, “You feeling better? I’ll make some tea if you want. Or, I don’t know, orange juice? Grapes? We have strawberries and bananas on the counter. Do you need water? I can get you water.”

Sykkuno smiles and bites his lip subconsciously. He’s perfectly capable of pouring his own juice or getting himself water, but it’s nice to hear someone care about him, especially when sometimes, he forgets to do so, “No, uh, I just wanted to see how you are.”

“I’m great,” the corners of Corpse’s eyes twitch like he’s about to smile, but the happy expression stops in its tracks momentarily as a loud shout from his computer interrupts them.

“Hi, Corpse! Didn’t expect to see you on Rust.” Rae exclaims joyfully, obviously oblivious to Sykkuno’s presence, “Doing some late night gambling?”

He stammers, unsure of how to respond, looking at his boyfriend nervously, “Um, actually, I-I was, but now I think I’ll get off.”

“Oh, is something wrong? Did I say something?”

“No, no, but you’re not streaming, are you?”

“Not right now.” She answers quickly before concern takes over, “Are you okay? Do you need to tell me something?”

“Uh, Sykkuno is here with me.”

She understands, “Right, I wouldn’t want to third wheel. Tell him hi for me!”

She continues to bet her scrap on numbers at random while Corpse turns his game off. He checks his phone and nearly balks. One of his favorite musicians just sent him a text, and he nearly has to pinch himself to make sure he’s not in a dream.

“Corpse?”

He puts his phone face down on his table, “Sorry, love. What do you need?”

“Oh, uh, I- do we have any candy?” He asks, though he did not really want candy; he just didn’t want to burden Corpse by making him care for him when that is what he has been doing all day. He feels really small again, and he knows the fears are irrational, but they feel so real in the moment.

“No, but I think we might have some ice cream,” he doesn’t mean to ignore Sykkuno, but he is in talks with a big artist who seems very interested in a collaboration with him. After the snippet of the song with MGK dropped, more people have started to clamor around him, wanting new music, an album, more merch, something to cement him as an actual artist, and suddenly, it is starting to become too much. 

Sykkuno isn’t too bothered. He gets it, even if he doesn’t understand why Corpse is talking to someone with three letters for a name or who he is in the first place. If it’s what he wants, he doesn’t mind at all, “Do you want some?”

“I’ll be fine, baby.”

He’s a little more cheered up than he was earlier, but the nagging feeling of unhappiness claws at his heart. He isn’t totally stressed out, but his head hurts, and there’s no aspirin. The sun will rise in an hour, and if he stays up a tiny bit longer, they can watch it together from the balcony. That’s always nice, just them, cuddling while wrapped around each other or holding hands, and they both somehow communicate through this subconscious bond that they’re here for each other. Always. He crosses his legs and rests against Corpse’s leg some more. There will always be days when he feels like this, and just being around his boyfriend makes him feel much better when it seems like nothing else can.

And sometimes, but very rarely, there are times when both just want someone to be there for them.

They wake up tired. Sykkuno tosses and turns, but he just feels uncomfortable and confused: he doesn’t know what is wrong, but he’s certain something definitely is. Corpse is moody, clutching his phone like without it, he’ll have phantom pains, and his mind is constantly moving. He once heard somewhere that the brain fires two billion neurons a second or something like that, but right now, he wishes he could ignore all of them. If everything could just pause, if he didn’t have to deal with everything the world throws at him on a daily basis, everything would be okay, he’s sure. 

Sykkuno can’t focus on anything. He sweeps the room for an excuse to do anything other than sit and be bored, but his search ends up a failed attempt. They eat fruit and stare at each other. Boredom, anxiety, sadness, loneliness, increasingly ever present acknowledgment of hatred of solitude creeping in every second. There are labels to diagnose how they feel, but neither can prescribe a treatment plan. Corpse would say to incite chaos, but it’s a quiet day with not much to look forward to. Sykkuno brainstorms mountains of ideas before stumbling upon the best thought he’s had in days. He just has to make a plan.

They are both in desperate need of cheering up, and Sykkuno has an ace up his sleeve that works like 99.999 percent of the time. (Trust the statistics major.) So he convinces Corpse to drive to his parents house where he reveals his grand surprise. The tiny, puffy, cloud-like Bimbus toddles out from behind his legs to greet his favorite deep-voiced giver of treats.

“Bimbus!” His face breaks out into a wide smile, and though it is foreign after so long spent scowling and frowning, it is welcome. He feels content for the first time His hands weave through Bimbus’s soft coat, and everything just stops. The negativity he feels that constantly tries to override his happy thoughts is held at bay for once. He’s not thinking about the next video, the next album, the merch, or how long he has left in the industry; it’s just him, Sykkuno, and Bimbus, and nothing else matters. It’s the best he’s felt in days, and Sykkuno definitely feels the.

Sykkuno is pleased that his mission is accomplished, and he sits down, helping the Bimb to climb onto his boyfriend’s white lap. The cotton candy fluff looks perfectly at home, licking everything in sight and yipping merrily. Sykkuno is a rare type of person who finds the most joy in supporting others. When Corpse is happy, he is too, simple as that.

“Hey,” Corpse ducks his head to whisper loud enough for Sykkuno to hear, “did you know that you’re my favorite boy? Yeah, yeah, you are. What’s that?” He pretends to ponder what Bimbus has “said,” “What about Sykkuno? Oh, you’re right, Bimbus. Sykkuno is my favorite!”

Blushing, the boy tucks his hand into his hair and ruffles his locks nervously as Corpse turns to him and takes his lips in a kiss. His eyelashes fluttering softly, Sykkuno withdraws from his grasp. He nuzzles his head against Corpse’s shoulder, and he realizes he would not change a single thing. He is so glad that he met him all that time ago because he is so full of happiness every morning that he gets to wake up to his beautiful, incredibly wonderful, generous, and thoughtful boyfriend.

“I love you.” He is so lovely and selfless, and honestly, Corpse can no longer discern joy and gratefulness from solitude and selfishness. On one hand, Sykkuno is giving, willing to help him in any way possible. That’s great, but it makes Corpse feel like he’s a burden for his boy to carry around and watch out for, constantly making sure that he is happy and comfortable. He has never felt better, yet there is still an aching in his heart that will never be soothed because he constantly tells himself that he does not deserve good things such as Sykkuno. His thoughts are conflicting and cannot guide him. But he knows one thing for certain and that is that he loves Sykkuno with his whole heart. Sykkuno deserves the world and everything good within it. There is nothing he wouldn’t give to see his boy smile.

Sykkuno holds a staring contest with the wall, “I love you too.” He doesn’t just say those words without some inner turmoil regarding their meaning and worth. They’re true, obviously, but it is simply that he’s never said them to anyone. “People don’t like him,” remember? He’s never laid against someone’s chest and felt totally safe, no nerves or embarrassment getting in the way. He’s never felt loved like the way he feels around Corpse. He loves Corpse so much, to the end of the world and back, no matter how cliche and illogical that may sound.

Corpse fumbles with a smile. He’s never been good at loving someone, and there’s a reason all of his school pictures were grimaces or scowls. In his whole life, he hasn’t found much to be happy about. He’s heard of people saying the best thing is just waking up in the morning, which is valid, but here’s the issue with that. First, Corpse barely wakes up in the morning, more like six at night, or he’ll groggily tumble around in his bed after a nap at some random time in the middle of the night. Secondly, it was always a rare occasion that Corpse would feel happy to wake up. At least, it was, until he met Sykkuno, the ray of sunshine who made mornings cheerful even in his worst moods and listens to the steady pitter patter of rain against the windows as they sip boba tea and don’t talk.


End file.
